


The Grangers Departing

by legallyblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Poor Hermione, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblack/pseuds/legallyblack
Summary: This is what I assume was one of the hardest things for Hermione to do: Obliviate her parents.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The Grangers Departing

Dear Ron,

I hope you’re doing well. I’ve got to keep this letter short, but I needed to tell someone before my head explodes. I think I need to go ahead with what I talked to you about at King’s Cross. The thing with my parents. It sounds mental, I know, but I need them safe, and this is the only way. I’ll be at the Burrow later today. 

Hermione 

Hermione signed the letter and tied it to Pigwidgeon, who had been fluttering around her windowsill for the better half of 3 days, waiting for her to send a reply. With an exasperated hoot, the tiny bird was off. Hermione turned back to her bed, which was carefully made. On the end sat a little beaded bag, meticulously packed countless times by a very anxious owner. Looking around her room, she realized with a pang that there wasn’t anything left to do. She’d been teetering on the edge for the past 3 days. Even her parents were starting to notice. Hermione walked into her now empty bathroom and stared into the mirror. God, she’d grown. She remembered 6 years ago, a scared 11 year old looking into the mirror. Her biggest fear back then had been getting all of the necessary books and making friends. “ Friends” , she thought with a dry laugh. How ironic was it that the friend she had made all those years ago was the very reason she was going to do what she was about to do. Not that she resented Harry for anything. It was her choice. She had made that very clear after Dumbledore died. 

“We’ll be there, Harry,” Ron had said. Hermione had chimed in eagerly. “You told us that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We’ve had time, haven’t we?”

The words echoed in her head. “ We’ve had time, haven’t we?” Time. Time. Time. There wasn’t enough bloody time. 

Hermione felt, rather than saw the tears in her eyes. 7 years of fear by association had culminated into this very stressful summer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw last week’s issue of the Daily Prophet, neatly stacked on top of the rest of the summer’s issue. That had been the deciding factor. The front page showed the horrific aftermath of a brutal muggle family murder. Her local news station had reported it as a home invasion gone wrong, but Hermione knew instantly that it had been death eaters. They were getting closer. She felt bad for ignoring the past few letters from Ron. The genuine concern in his words made her smile, but in some ways worried her more. What would she give, to be back in school, where the only worry was whether she would be able to complete Mcgonagall’s transfiguration essay on time. “Hermione”, the voice in the back of her head nudged. “Let’s be honest, that was never your biggest worry. You’ve been in danger ever since 1st year.” Hermione couldn’t even argue with herself. The problem was, they were going on the most dangerous mission yet with the least amount of information yet. Logic was her strong suit, and without enough to go off of, she felt utterly useless. 

Hermione checked her beaded bag one more time. She was quite frankly surprised at the amount of things she had been able to fit into it. In her defense, she had spent all summer practicing the charm. 

She was instantly reminded of another charm. The second one that she had been practicing at night with the light from her window. The one she never thought she would ever have to learn.

The theory was easy enough. It wasn’t the hardest magic she had ever had to do. It would probably be the hardest for her to do. If only she could have the time turner she owned in 3rd year. She would give anything to turn back time and get just a few more moments with her-

“Hermione! Tea’s ready!”

She was snapped out of her thoughts.

“Coming, Mum”

She couldn’t keep the crack out of her voice.

Walking down the stairs took an eternity. Every step felt heavier than the last. When she reached the bottom, she saw her parents, backs facing her on the couch.The smell of freshly cooked biscuits wafted from the kitchen and filled her senses. Ginger biscuits were a staple of her mother’s. How many times had she eaten up a whole plate while pouring over her school books? Hermione shook her head and forced herself to focus. She had hoped that she would be able to do it fast, without them even noticing.

Unfortunately, her father turned around. “Ah, Mione dear, come quick, before the tea gets cold.” The smile on his face almost made Hermione start crying right then and there. She slowly made her way to the chair next to the couch, and carefully sat down. Her mom gave her a weird look that she could not place. “Hermione, there’s a new issue of that wizard newspaper that you subscribe to on the counter. I was reading through the front page, and there was some interesting news. This Voldy-more fellow that you told your father and I about, where does he live?’ Hermione almost snorted. “Uh-Mum, he’s a dark wizard. He doesn’t - live - anywhere.” “Ah, I see. And, you said he returned a year ago, correct? Is it still safe to return to Hogwarts?” Her mother questioned, making direct eye contact with her now. Hermione didn’t know what to say, so she took the opportunity of her parent’s attention.

“Ok. I’ve-er actually been meaning to talk to you both. As you’ve just mentioned, Voldemort is back. I saw it. And he and his - supporters -, um they have a- a sort of prejudice against people like me. A muggleborn. People who have non-magical parents.” She paused. Her parents looked slightly frightened, but urged her to go on. She swallowed hard. “So, um, I don’t think I’m going back to Hogwarts.” Her father, who still looked a little confused, broke out into a tired smile. “Oh, well Hermione if it’s unsafe for you then I definitely agree, no more wizarding school! You can transfer to the local highschool, and I’m sure we can make arrangements for you to meet your friends, Harold and...Rupert? Rudy?” Her mother playfully hit him on the arm. “Oh come on, Will! It’s Harry and Ron.” She turned to Hermione, smirking. “He’s so forgetful, your father.” But Hermione did not laugh. 

The momentary feelings of relief she’d had at her parent’s pleased reaction were swiftly replaced with a loud panic. They weren’t getting it. “No! You-you haven’t let me finish. I’m not going to Hogwarts...because I’m going off the grid. Harry, he’s, as you know...sort of at the center of this issue. And Dumbledore, our headmaster who you know was murdered last year, he left him, us, a mission. A mission that would potentially defeat Voldemort. And Ron and I are to go on it.” She braced herself. Sure enough, her parents' looks of concern turned to anger. “Absolutely not, Hermione. Don’t be silly.” Her father looked stern. Her mother looked confused still. “And what, may I ask, is this said mission?” She asked. Hermione paused. “I-I can’t tell you guys, I’m sorry. and , even if I could...I- don’t know enough.” Her parents looked bewildered. Her mother stood up. “So you expect us to let you go on a field day with your two MALE friends off who knows where, and you don’t even know where it is? And in the wizarding world? No. You yourself just said how much these people supposedly hate our “kind”. Hermione, you’re so smart, how on earth did you think we would agree to this?” Hermione looked to her father for help. He simply glared at her. She could feel the tears rising once again. “You two don’t understand! I need to do this! It might save the entire wizarding world—”

“OH! SO WHY WOULD THIS WORLD PLACE THE FATE OF ITS FUTURE IN THE HANDS OF THREE TEENAGERS WHO DON’T HAVE A SCHOOL DEGREE?” Her dad was yelling now. “Because, like I told you! Harry is the war, and we’re his best friends! Didn’t you two always tell me to stick by my friends? Didn’t you?” Hermione was openly crying now. Her parents weren’t cooperating, and she hadn’t even gotten to the hardest part of the conversation. 

Her mom spoke again, sitting down with a loud sigh. “Ok. Let’s say you do run off to fulfill this...mission. What are your father and I supposed to do? Just sit and wait around here not knowing if- if you’re alive or d-dead? And we can’t even do anything because we’re just... muggles?” Hermione stood up shakily. “Um, that’s where the next part comes in. You know way too much about Harry and me and the wizarding world. If the dea— if his followers find you, they’ll do whatever they can to get information out of you. Her dad huffed. “So? We have money, we can give them whatever they need to keep your name out of it.” Hermione could have laughed at the innocence of it all. “You don’t get it, Dad. They’ll torture you. They’ll drive you insane until the very end when they’ll kill you because they can. They don’t care about muggles, about us.” This finally shut her dad up. He looked at her with a curious expression. “So, what do you want us to do?” She stared at her parents for a second, then answered in a voice hardly bigger than a whisper. “I need you to move. To Australia.” Her mom laughed. 

“Hermione, are you insane? Pack up overnight and leave the country? What about our practice? Our jobs? Our whole lives are here. Seriously, dear you haven’t thought this through at all.” But her mother was wrong. The truth was, she had. She had thought it all out, to the last detail. “I have, actually Mum. Your clothes and tools are packed, I have the plane tickets, the rental, it’s all laid out.” Her parents stood silent for a long while. They looked utterly shocked at the fact that their daughter had done this all by herself. “How dare you do this without our permission, Hermione? What happened to you, you used to be such an honest kid! Is it those friends of yours? Are they forcing you to do this? Tell me.” Her father spoke slowly and in a low voice. 

Hermione spoke, her voice dry. “No, of course not. This is entirely my decision. Now, please , I’ll explain more when it’s all over, I swear. But you need to leave.” Her mother got up and pulled her father up with her. “Hermione, please excuse us. We need to discuss this. I’m very confused at the moment. She walked her father over to the kitchen counter, and began talking in a rushed but quiet voice. Hermione could only make out a few of the words and phrases.

“Too young! Who does she-”

“We never should have let-”

“Maybe she’s trying to cover up-”

Her mother may have told her that they were going to discuss it, but Hermione already knew the answer. They wouldn’t let her go. She knew what she would have to do. Hands shaking, she harshly wiped off the tears running down her face and pulled out her wand from where it had been stored in her pocket. She quickly went over the charm in her mind and slowly willed her hand to point her wand to her parent’s backs. At the exact moment, her mother turned around. For a brief second, Hermione saw the fear in her mother’s eyes. The first time she had ever been scared of her magic. 

“Hermione, what are you-”

“Obliviate”

She said it in a whisper. Her arm hand was now shaking so bad she wondered whether the spell would even work.

But she knew it had. Her parent’s faces immediately went blank as the thin wispy strands that she now knew were memories floated out of them. Choking back a sob, she turned and saw the family pictures around the living room change. She saw herself slowly fade out of the frames, one by one until there was no remnant of Hermione Granger in the house. When the beam of light coming from her wand stopped, she knew the charm was done. She turned to look at her parents once more. They were sitting in the counter chairs, vacant expressions still there. Hermoine had altered the charm so that they would not move until she had left the house. Then, as planned, they would head to Australia. 

Hermione barely registered the wand falling from her hand and clattering on the wooden floor. At that moment she wanted nothing to do with it. In the back of her mind, she vaguely recalled her first time at King’s Cross Station, when her mother had pulled an excited 11 year old Hermione into a big hug and whispered in her ear:

“I love you. Promise not to let magic replace your family. Alright, dear?”

Isn’t that exactly what she had just done? 

Hermione hated herself in this moment. She shakily picked up her wand and ran up the stairs into her room, grabbing her beaded bag and her coat. She allowed herself one last look at her childhood bedroom, and them, as if on autopilot, walked down the stairs back into the kitchen. She stopped at the sight of her parents, still sitting limp in the chairs. Hermione rushed past to the door, and with one last look, left her house. 

She walked in the rain. To be honest, she hadn’t even registered that it was raining until she couldn’t distinguish her tears from the water droplets. She didn’t care if people saw her. “Let them,” she thought bitterly. “Let them see what a disappointment Mrs. and Mr. Granger have for a daughter.” When she reached the local park, she ducked behind a tree and checked for people. When she saw none, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and turned on the spot.

The next thing she knew she was lying face down in grass. Clearly, in her aggravated state, she had miscalculated her landing. Spitting out the leaves in her mouth, she got up gingerly, feeling much more exhausted than she had before. Ahead, she saw the familiar outline of the Burrow. Normally the sight would have filled her with warmth and excitement, but now, all she could feel was numb.

She walked. She realized that her previous letter to Ron probably hadn’t even gotten to him yet. Still, she walked. She wanted to obliviate herself, erase the last few hours from her mind. When she finally reached the front porch, the door was thrown open by a very happy looking Mrs. Weasely. “Hermione dear! You’ve arrived early! Nevermind, welcome, come in!” She pulled Hermione into a hug. Hermione practically collapsed right then and there. Evidently Mrs. Weasely hadn’t noticed the state she was in, because she merrily called out “Ron! Ronald! Hermione is here! Come down Ron!” Hermione knew there was some solace in the fact that he probably had no idea what she had just done, and she could at least pretend to carry on as normal. 

She heard heavy footsteps coming down the rickety stairs, and then, standing in front of her, was Ron, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. The letter. No. No. No This wasn’t happening. Hermione looked at Ron for a second, and instantly he knew. The look in his eyes was sad but knowing. “Hi.” She whispered, afraid it might all come falling out. Ron didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked over to her and hugged her. He whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry.” That did it. The dam broke, and Hermione broke down with it. As she stood there sobbing, feeling the weight of the war that had barely begun on her shoulders, Ron just held her. Mrs. Weasley looked baffled. “Wha— Hermione, what’s—” but Ron held up a hand and shot his mother a warning look. “I think I’m going to take Hermione upstairs, Mum.” And with that, he gently led a still sobbing Hermione up the many flights of stairs. 

She hadn’t stopped crying by the time they reached his room, but the sobs had stopped. She walked ahead of Ron and sat on the small balcony. “I’m a horrible person.” She whispered, because in the back of her mind, she truly believed it. “They didn’t understand what I had to do, so I obliviated them. God, I’m such a horrible daughter.” Ron sat down next to her, looking at the now darkened sky. In a quiet voice, he turned and spoke to her. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person, Hermione. I think you’re a very smart, but more importantly caring person who did what she had to do to protect her parents.” Hermione didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Ron knew that she believed him, she always did. She sniffed, letting out a weak chuckle.

“Bugger, I’m sorry for making such a scene downstairs. You’re Mum’s probably confused.” Ron smiled. “I doubt it. She’s been so swamped for Bill and Fleur’s wedding lately, I don’t think she has much more room for thoughts.” Hermione had a sudden thought. “Harry! When’s he coming?” She asked. “I overheard Mum and Dad talking with the Order last week. I think they’re planning a retrieval stunt for him. I suppose it’s risky, with him being - Harry, and all.” Ron sighed. “ Hermione made eye contact with Ron, brown eyes meeting blue. “We’re doing this for Harry”, she stated plainly. Ron nodded. 

“Right. For Harry. And when it’s over, we can go to Australia and fix your parents.”

The butterflies that had gotten so used to settling in her stomach whenever Ron was around were flapping in full force. She wanted nothing more than to freeze time and sit here, like this, forever. But now was not forever. They had Horcruxes to find.


End file.
